Collective Mutants 7: Summer Heat
by Rossi
Summary: When Fish visits Allison in the country, it seems he's going to get everything he wanted... or is he?


[TCP] Collective Mutants: Summer Heat. By Rossi  
  
Disclaimer: Mutants are Marvel's, The Common People Kielle and Phil Foster's. No profit, only homage.  
  
Rating: PG-13 - language, innuendo, not-so-subtle sexual references.  
  
Summary: Finally, Fish gets what he wants, when he visits Allison at her parents' farm.  
  
Notes: I know, I said the last one was the last Collective Mutants story. But the strange thing about those kinds of declarations is, once the pressure's off, the ideas come sneaking back. I've been sitting on this one since last April - Fish and Allison proved most persistent. There will be another, eventually.  
  
An apology to those who expected a steamy sex scene from me in this one - believe me, I tried, but it just didn't feel right. You'll have to settle for dick and condom jokes. *g*  
  
Glossary at the end for those not fluent in Australian.  
  
Feedback: I won't know you liked it unless you tell me. Rossifics@yahoo.com.au  
  
Dedication: To those who have been waiting.  
  
***  
  
He stepped off the train and the heat hit him like a physical blow. Dry, scorching heat, like a blast from a furnace, smelling of baked earth and dried grass. and sheep.  
  
"Hot enough for you, mate?" asked a familiar voice behind him, and he turned, squinting into the afternoon glare.  
  
"It's a bit warm," he agreed, grinning. "It's good to see you, Ali."  
  
"You too, Fish." Allison smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "C'mon, mate, let's get out of here. There's a beer with your name on it in the fridge at home. Literally. I wrote on it so that pig of a brother of mine didn't pinch it before we got back."  
  
Fish laughed, and followed his friend and former housemate through the patch of bare ground that seemed to be the train station's car park. "He can't be too bad, Ali. He lent you his ute to pick me up," he said, dumping his sports bag in the back of said vehicle. The garment bag he brought with him into the cabin, although that was only marginally cleaner than the tray - the floor was covered with bits of hay and baling twine, and red dust coated the seats.  
  
"Only because I offered to muck out the chook yard next time it needs doing," Allison said wryly, sliding into the driver's seat with casual familiarity. Her hair was longer, he noticed, as she started the ute with a roar and pulled out. Blonder too, bleached pale at the ends by the sun. Or maybe it was the fact she was so brown that it looked that way. "What?" she asked, glancing at him, flushing very slightly under his stare. "Have I got something on my face or something?" In that tanned face, her eyes were startlingly blue.  
  
"Nah, I was just. You look happy, Ali. It's good to see," he temporised, expecting her to laugh at him. Instead, her expression softened slightly.  
  
"I am," she said quietly. "I thought maybe I'd get bored, miss all that stuff in the city, but honestly? It's good to be home. I miss you guys, of course, but I don't think I'd want to be anywhere else." She flicked the indicator on as they drove through the tiny main street of the town, turning left at a low sandstone building with broad verandahs that could only be the local pub. "Dad's even been talking about retiring in the next couple of years and splitting the place, between me and Dave."  
  
"How's Dave feel about that?" Fish squinted through the windscreen, at the heat haze shimmering on the road like illusionary water. The buildings had dropped off pretty quickly, and on either side of them stretched endless yellow paddocks, punctuated by fence lines and the occasional tree. Even with the windows down - which set the hay fragments into a dervish dance inside the cabin - it was baking hot. "You two still getting along?"  
  
"Compared to before I left, like a house on fire." Allison looked across at him again, and flipped open the console between the seats, pulling out a plastic bottle of water. It had clearly been frozen, ice still lingering inside and condensation beading the sides. "Here. I knew you'd need something to get you back in this weather. Weather Bureau predicted high thirties to low forties today. I reckon it's close to 42, 43 out there."  
  
"As always, you're a life saver, mate." Fish took the bottle and drank gratefully, the cold causing a momentary flash of pain across his temples. Heat had never been kind to him, not with his mutation - under his light cotton t-shirt he could feel his gills practically gaping for cool water.  
  
"We can go down the river later, have a swim, if you like," she said, shrugging. Her hands were relaxed and sure on the steering wheel, a fresh cut or two showing on the backs, the nails brutally short. "Can't have you expiring of heat exhaustion before the big do. That'd be a pain in the arse to explain."  
  
"Explain to who?" Fish took another gulp of water, and held out the bottle to her. "Want some?"  
  
"Nah, I'm fine. To the pains in the arse that have been bugging me about this bloody thing for the past two weeks. I think just about ever farm hand and jackaroo in a twenty k radius has called 'round. Dad's been threatening to set the dogs on 'em." At Fish's snort of laughter, she added: "I've been telling them I already had a date. My bloke from the Big Smoke."  
  
"What, me?" Fish paused in his laughter, not believing his luck.  
  
"No, I mean Bert Bloody Newton. Of course, you, you drongo." Seeing him preen, just a little, she grinned. "James already had a date, and Robbo's just as bad as the blokes around here, so I had to make do."  
  
"Thanks a heap," he huffed, pretending to be insulted.  
  
"You're welcome." She looked away from the road again and reached across to punch him lightly on the arm. "It's bloody good to see you, Fish."  
  
"I knew you couldn't resist me forever," he replied, grinning. She hit him again, harder this time, before turning her attention back to driving.  
  
***  
  
Fish broke the surface of the river with a gasp of relief, having swum underwater from one side to the other several times in quick succession. He could practically feel his skin drinking in the cool fluid. Treading water, he asked Allison: "So, what's the deal with this thing? I mean, I've heard of B&S Balls before, but somehow I don't think you'd be into circle work with a ute."  
  
"You never know, mate, it's a big thing here in the country, driving around in circles in a muddy paddock," she replied from her perch on the half- sunken tree she and her brother had used as a diving board since they were small. His response was to splash water in her direction and she reciprocated, before adding: "Well, it's the only real big party around, besides the odd 21st. So the local kids tend to make a big deal out of it - they dress up, stress over who they're going to go with, even though they'll go with the same people they always go to everything to, drink way too much - but it's a bit of a laugh. Mum kind of insisted I go this time; I was too young before, and I think she wants to show the district that I'm safe to be around. Either that or marry me off to some farmer's son."  
  
"I'd like to see that," Fish snorted.  
  
"I'll have you know I'm one of the most eligible 'spinsters' going to this thing tomorrow," she sniffed, but her eyes danced with laughter.  
  
"Sure you are," he teased.  
  
"Bastard," she retorted, kicking water in his direction. He merely ducked underwater and swam over to where her feet dangled. Before she could blink, he'd grabbed her feet and pulled her in with a most embarrassingly girlish squeal. "No fair!" she spluttered when he let her go to reappear next to her. "There's no point even ducking you, since you can stay under all day and not give a rats."  
  
"Exactly right," he said with an evil grin. "You're in my territory now." He moved in on her, the grin turning predatory and she kicked herself backwards, giggling despite herself.  
  
"Don't you dare."  
  
"Hey, you two lovebirds coming in for tea or are you too busy snogging?" called David from the bank. Allison's ears turned bright red and she muttered something rude under her breath.  
  
"That brother of mine is going to die. Slowly and painfully." Fish echoed the sentiment mentally as he watched her head for the bank with a few swift strokes. Watching the play of muscles under smooth tanned skin as she waded out, he added several extra tortures to the mental image.  
  
"Oi, Tadpole, come on!" Allison's call roused him from images of David's lingering death, and he looked over to where she was standing on the bank, a faded beach towel wrapped around her shoulders.  
  
"Yeah, be there in a sec," he called back, and ducked under the water for a last few laps, leaving barely a ripple behind him. It would be best for his health, he rationalised, if his gills got maximum hydration.  
  
Nothing to do with having an erection at all.  
  
***  
  
"Well now, don't you scrub up well!" Allison's mother, plump and matronly but with that practical, no-nonsense edge Fish'd seen in Allison all-too- frequently, beamed at him as he emerged from the spare room. He blushed slightly and tugged at the collar of his shirt, where the bow tie was threatening to cut off his circulation.  
  
"Thanks, Mrs F," he said. "I feel like a right dope in this lot - are you sure Allie isn't having me on about the whole tux thing?"  
  
"Afraid not, mate," drawled David, following Fish into the communal dining/kitchen area in a tuxedo of his own. He tugged at his collar, unconsciously echoing Fish's gesture. "The B&S is the height of the social calendar 'round here, which means dragging out the monkey suit."  
  
"Well, I think you both look lovely," his mother protested. "Such handsome boys. Aren't they handsome, Les?"  
  
A grunt came from behind the stock auction pages of the local paper screening a beaten-up armchair in the corner. David's ears reddened.  
  
"Knock it off, Mum," he growled, and made a point of looking at the clock on the wall. "Where the hell is Allie? She's been in the bathroom all bloody afternoon."  
  
"Like you didn't take hours yourself," came Allison's snort from behind them. "Still, you had a bit of a challenge, making your ugly mug presentable."  
  
"Who are you calling ug." David began, but the rest of his retort was lost as, with a click of heels on the linoleum, Allison brushed between him and Fish to stand in the middle of the kitchen. "Bloody hell," he managed, still looking stunned. Beside him, Fish was trying to remember how to breathe.  
  
"So, is it all right?" Allison asked, half-teasing, half-nervous. She essayed a small twirl, revealing that the halter-top of the peach-coloured dress left her back almost entirely bare. Her hair had been French braided, the plait reaching the base of her neck, and small diamond studs glittered in her ears.  
  
Fish's collar seemed to tighten to the point of strangulation.  
  
"Ergle," he gurgled, and Allison's grin turned mischievous.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes, my brain has melted and I've lost all higher functions', shall I? See, bro? _That's_ how to win a girl over. Bowl her over with compliments."  
  
"That's enough, Allison," scolded her mother, coming forward to tweak at Allison's hair just a little. "You're embarrassing the poor boy."  
  
"And you weren't earlier?" Allison teased. "Okay, I'll behave."  
  
"That dress is a bit short, isn't it?" came a voice from the corner as her father finally lowered his paper to peer critically at his offspring. Allison seemed unperturbed.  
  
"No, it's just the right length. I'll be able to jump out the car and open the gates, without tripping over some idiotic long skirt." She smoothed down the front of the figure-hugging dress, which stopped at mid-thigh. "I could go out drenching in this, no worries."  
  
"Not without a gallon of sunscreen," David added. "So that's why you were wearing that stupid halter-top thing for the past couple of weeks." He ducked the playful slap Allison aimed at him. "Hey, not the hair!" he protested, trying to preserve his carefully-combed-and-almost-terminally- moussed arrangement.  
  
"No more nonsense and go into the front room - I want a picture," Mrs Ferguson herded the three of them into the rather stilted-looking room none of them used except for company. Like a sheep-dog with a penchant for floral print, she arranged them to her satisfaction - Allison in between the two boys - in front of her pride and joy, the crystal cabinet (it contained the various pieces of crystal the Ferguson women had won in three generations of Local Show baking competitions) and stepped back, camera raised. "Now then, everyone smile. Fish, you'll have to put your arm around Allison so I can fit you into the shot."  
  
"_Mum_," Allison growled through gritted teeth. She ignored the tingle that shot up her spine as Fish's hand brushed her bare back.  
  
"Smile, dear," her mother replied blandly and took the shot, the flash momentarily dazzling them all. "Lovely. Now, off you go, or you'll be late."  
  
"Drive carefully, and don't worry about the chores - Jim and I will have it in hand," instructed Mr Ferguson as they trooped through the kitchen again. "I'd say 'don't drink too much', but I remember my B&S days, so I'll settle for, 'don't be stupid'. And look after Allison, you two - these things can get a bit rough."  
  
"Dad, I _can_ take care of myself, you know," Allison protested, bending down to kiss his weather-seamed cheek. "And don't overdo it - things can wait until tomorrow."  
  
"None of that mutant power business, you hear? Especially if you're drinking. You don't know what could happen."  
  
"No, Dad." Allison rolled her eyes as she kissed her mother goodbye, before following the two boys out the back door to David's ute.  
  
***  
  
The region's annual Bachelor and Spinster's Ball was held in the local hall, with a marquee out the back to extend the space available and give the hall's floor a respite from spilt beer, muddy shoes, and unfortunate biological accidents. The lights were blazing in the warm twilight as the three of them approached, having parked the ute a little way up the road on the banks of the river.  
  
"You leave your vehicle in the car park 'round here and there's no tellin' what'll happen to it," David had explained. "Either some bastard'll use it for burnouts or something stupid, or you'll have some couple going at it like rabbits in the back."  
  
"Which explains the sudden proliferation of mattresses in the backs of farm utes," snickered Allison, picking her way along the dirt track and wishing she'd grabbed her boots for this part - her heels weren't exactly practical for walking on rough terrain. "Which reminds me. I couldn't help but notice the sleeping bags you tossed in the back of yours, Dave. Thinking of getting lucky?"  
  
David's ears turned red and he muttered something. Fish nudged Allison. "Looks like you were right."  
  
Luckily for David they were hailed by a group of dinner-suited young men - still wearing their farm hats and boots, though - assembled at the front of the hall as they approached. Greetings and catcalls were exchanged, the newcomer introduced, beer handed over. and the evening had begun.  
  
***  
  
Fish came out of the 'Gents' shaking water from his hands. He'd been soaking them in the sink - the air in the hall was close and thick with cigarette smoke, which normally wasn't a problem considering he spent half his time in pubs, but combined with the hot temperatures of that day and the still-warm air outside, he was feeling a little wilted. The music pounded his head unmercifully, and he decided to head outside to the marquee. Besides, the beer was there.  
  
It was slightly quieter in the marquee, but not much cooler. Grabbing a plastic cup of beer from the bloke behind the bar, Fish continued outside. It seemed to be the bloke thing to do - there was a group of the area's young men clustered around and on one of the many parked farm utes. He wandered over, always inclined to be social. It soon became clear from the overheard conversation that it mightn't have been an entirely good idea.  
  
". thinks she is, anyway? Bringing in some poofy city bloke, acting the snob. All that time in the city's made her up herself."  
  
"What do you think about this mutant thing? They say she has control over her powers now, but you remember what she did to Masterson's place."  
  
"Yeah, that's the thing with muties, you never know. Still, she's grown up very nice. Did you see her? Like to trying breaking _that_ filly myself, powers or not."  
  
"If the city bloke hasn't beaten you to it. Me sister Carol was saying they used to share a place in the Big Smoke together, an' you know what that means." There was an ugly smattering of laughter, low and dirty. Another comment, this one too quiet for him to hear, and another ribband of laughter.  
  
"Why don't you ask the city boy himself?" Fish said quietly, stepping forward. "You got something to say, I suggest you say it to my face. Or to Allison's."  
  
"Got a problem, mate?" asked one of the boys, eyeing Fish appraisingly. He was, like most of them, well-muscled and tall, built large on a diet of good food and heavy work. Not for the first time Fish found himself wishing he'd gotten a slightly more offensive mutation. Being amphibious wasn't going to help here, not unless they decided to throw him in the river. Still, he'd started this, and he wasn't about to back down.  
  
"Only problem here is you, and your mouth."  
  
"I don't like your attitude, city boy."  
  
"And I don't like your face, but them's the breaks." 'Now I'm for it,' he added mentally, moving around so he had a car at his back. He'd been involved in enough pub fights - an unfortunate social phenomenon when you were a mutant - to know that in real life people didn't wait turns to hit you, they all tended to pile in at once. And it wasn't a good idea to leave your back open if you didn't have someone to watch it.  
  
"He's got you there, McKenzie," laughed a very welcome voice. David walked into the group, some of his own mates behind him. "You've really been hit by the ugly stick, haven't you?" He smiled, a lazy grin that promised all sorts of trouble if things went on; "Actually, I've just saved you a real hassle; Fish here could do all sorts of nasty things to you, if you stir him up. Like someone said, you never know with mutants. Now, why don't you go and ask Suzy Carrington for a dance or something? She's got God-awful taste, liking a mug like you, but she's pining away in there for you, and this is meant to be a fun night. Okay?"  
  
McKenzie muttered something, but took the hint. He glowered at David and Fish and headed back into the marquee, his mates following. Allison was in the doorway of the tent, and she glared at him as he shouldered past.  
  
"Prick," she murmured as she came out. She was a little unsteady on her feet, as most of them were.  
  
"Yeah," David agreed. "He's still pissed off that you beat him up on the school bus that time, I reckon."  
  
"Thanks, Dave. Would have been hard to explain to Karen how Fish got broken." She took Fish's arm, steadying herself.  
  
"No worries." There was some kind of silent communication between the siblings, and David grinned. "I've got to get back - got meself a couple of young ladies to entertain." He smoothed the front of his jacket with a grin and departed.  
  
Allison chuckled, and turned to Fish, who was still a little bewildered at how fast things had been resolved. "Wanna go for a walk?"  
  
"Sure," he replied, and let her lead him out of the car park and down the dirt track.  
  
They walked in silence for a while, Fish enjoying the cool air and making sure Allison didn't trip herself up - she was more drunk than he'd seen her be for a while. The pressure of being 'on show', he supposed. She'd said something about this night being a kind of test, a chance to prove to the community her powers were well and truly under control. As if in answer to his thoughts, she snapped her fingers and let her forefinger blaze with a small flame, like a candle. It glimmered in the darkness around them like a firefly.  
  
"Let there be light," she said, and giggled.  
  
"You okay?" he asked, putting his arm around her as she stumbled over a rock.  
  
"Stupid shoes," she muttered, leaning into him. "Yeah, I'm good. Fine and dandy. Just needed a break, y'know?"  
  
"Yeah, I know." He wasn't much surprised that their weaving route had taken them back to the ute. "You want to sit for a bit?"  
  
"'Kay," she said agreeably, moving around to the back of the car and dropping the tailgate at the back. "Jeez, David could have cleaned out the back of this."  
  
"Here, sit on this." Fish pulled one of the sleeping bags out of its bag and spread it on the tray. Allison giggled.  
  
"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you, Raphe?" She didn't appear to notice she'd stopped using the old nickname. "Nearly getting your head beaten in to defend my honour, that was really sweet. You've got all sorts of hidden depths, y'know that?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me, hero and all-round nice guy," Fish said wryly. "I should be beating off the women with a stick."  
  
"They've got no taste, is all." Allison shuffled closer. "And I've been bad. Haven't given you your hero's reward."  
  
"Hmm? What reward?" Any further speech was cut off as Allison grabbed his lapels and pulled him forward to kiss him. She'd been drinking vodka and cranberry UDLs all night - her lips were sweet and sticky. For a split second he froze, and then pulled her closer. Her mouth opened under his, and her tongue flickered across his lips, the brief contact setting his nerves on fire. It took a huge effort of will to pull away - they were both breathing hard, and Allison's eyes were dark, the pupils dilated.  
  
"Ali." He managed to form the word, despite the fact his brain seemed to have turned to mush. "What.?"  
  
"What does it look like?" Allison replied. She didn't give a chance to reply, however - she effectively smothered any argument with a combination of mouth and hands and strong, supple body as she pushed him back onto the tray of the ute.  
  
It wasn't like the movies. The tray of the ute was hard on knees and elbows and backs. A cloud of mosquitoes zeroed in from the river, biting merrily, until Allison managed to fry most of them by raising her skin temperature (and by this stage there was a lot of skin showing). Fish's bow tie went sailing over the side of the ute to disappear into the long grass on the riverbank. There was giggling and silly jokes and a pause to scrabble for one of the condoms David kept in the glove box of the ute "'cause you never know".  
  
But afterwards, after the gasping and moaning and crying out inarticulate sounds of a pleasure so intense it was almost like pain, afterwards, as they lay curled together, Fish murmured to the warm head tucked under his chin:  
  
"Thank you."  
  
There was no reply - Allison was already asleep.  
  
***  
  
There was something poking her in the back.  
  
Slowly awareness seeped back into Allison's consciousness, along with sensation. She could hear the morning chorus of birds - the magpies and kookaburras rising above the general burble of sound by sheer volume and enthusiasm - and feel the warm sun on the skin of her arms and shoulders. The _bare_ skin of her shoulders.  
  
'Hang on a minute here.'  
  
She took further stock. There was an unzipped sleeping bag draped over her like a blanket, and another underneath, but she could feel the hard ridges of metal beneath her hip and identify them as belonging to the tray of David's ute. And underneath the sleeping bag, she was very much not wearing anything at all. There was also something slung over her waist, pinning her down slightly. And there was something tickling her shoulder, not a breeze, because a breeze wasn't regularly spaced. Nor did a breeze snore slightly.  
  
Full awareness hit, and with it, memory.  
  
'Oh, hell.'  
  
Gingerly she rolled over. Bad move. The thing poking her in the back was now poking her in the front, and seemed very pleased to do so. Even worse, _where_ it was poking didn't seem to mind that much either. She inched back - reluctantly - but couldn't get far with the arm slung over her waist. Her wriggling broke into whatever happy fuzzy place he was in, because Fish's blue-green eyes slowly opened.  
  
"Um, hi," she said, not sure how to deal with this situation. It wasn't something she did on a regular basis.  
  
"Hi," he said, smiling. The smile, and the starry look in his eyes, didn't help, not one bit.  
  
"Ah, about last night." She tried to wriggle further away, but was prevented by a combination of Fish's arm and the wheel arch.  
  
"Last night? Last night was _amazing_." He smiled again, the slightly silly smile of the happily laid. "So amazing, in fact, that it had to be a dream. Only now I'm awake, so I thought we could try that again. Sober, this time. So I can remember _everything_." He pulled her closer, back into range.  
  
"Fish." she started to say, trying to pull her thoughts into something coherent. It was difficult, because he was nibbling her ear, then her neck. Somehow he'd found out her weak spots. Sometime last night, no doubt.  
  
"Raphe," he murmured into the curve where neck met shoulder, slipping his arm under the sleeping bag to stroke her back. "Call me Raphe. Like you did last night."  
  
"Raphe." The name turned into a slight gasp as he ran his cool hand over her skin, down to cup her bum, a thousand shivers racing down her spine. She arched, instinctively, the motion bringing their bodies back into contact, which set off a whole new bundle of sensations.  
  
'What the hell,' she thought, reaching to grasp a handful of thick sandy hair and pulling his head up so she could kiss him. 'We'll sort it out later.'  
  
***  
  
Ripples chased each other across the dawn-still surface of the river - this late in the summer, its flow had been reduced to barely a movement by irrigation - and Allison followed them, trying to pick where Fish would surface. As always, he surprised her by appearing in the completely opposite direction. He flipped his hair back, scattering silver water droplets, and smiled at her. The new vulnerability in his face made her heart lurch nastily in her chest.  
  
"Sure you don't want to come in?" he asked. "The water's great." He hazarded a small splash in her direction with a grin, but she just shook her head.  
  
"I'm fine," she told him, pulling his jacket more firmly around her shoulders. Something in her voice must have been a bit off, because he looked at her strangely, concern dimming the happiness in his face.  
  
"I'll come out then," he said, and ducked under the water again to surface not far from the edge. Allison blushed and looked away as he stood and waded out - his clothes were sitting next to her on the tray of the ute. She didn't look back until she caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye of him grabbing his trousers. His look, as he fastened them, was reproachful. He sat next to her and she stiffened as he put his arm around her waist.  
  
"Fish, don't." She pulled away slightly. His eyes, when she dared to meet them again, were clouded with hurt and puzzlement.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, concern warring with fear in his voice. "Did I do something? Did I hurt you?"  
  
"No, nothing like that! It's just." Allison looked over the river, looking for guidance, some way of saying what she had to without destroying him. "What happened last night. I had a lot of fun, and you're a great bloke, but." She looked back at him and almost lost her nerve, seeing the expression on his face. "It was a mistake."  
  
"'A mistake'," he echoed hollowly. "Not to me, it wasn't. It meant something to me, a lot more than you know." Fish turned slightly, so he was facing her, and grabbed her hand. "Allison, I."  
  
"Don't!" She snatched her hand back. "Don't say it, Fish. _Please_."  
  
"I have to," he replied stubbornly. "You might think you can pretend things don't happen and they won't, but I can't do this any more. I love you, Ali, have for a while now. I think we'd be good together - you can't pretend that we wouldn't, because you know we would."  
  
"We wouldn't!" Her face flushed with a passion of another sort, Allison said the words with a vehemence which startled him. "How can you even think that? There's no way you can live up here - the heat'd kill you, you know that - and there's no way I'm leaving, not now when I've finally gotten where I wanted to be! And face it, I'm just a country bumpkin who only just finished high school, while you're smart and going to make a great doctor one day. You'd end up resenting me, or I'd get pissed off at you, and we'd fight all the time and make ourselves miserable. If I hadn't been so drunk last night, it would never have happened, and I wish it hadn't, if this is how it's going to be." Fish sat back, stunned by the outburst.  
  
"But. but what about this morning?" he managed at last. "You weren't drunk then. Why else would you have done it, if it didn't mean something to you?"  
  
Allison sighed, and looked out across the river again. The sun was casting dappled shadows through the leaves of the river red gums on the banks, glinting off the slow-moving water. "Sometimes, Fish, a fuck is just a fuck," she said at last. "It doesn't have to _mean_ anything, just two friends having a good time together. That's all it was, a good time. A bit of fun."  
  
"I can't believe that." The words were bitter, and she winced a little. "It's never 'just a fuck', no matter what you say. It always means something. And I thought you respected me more than that." He slid off the tray, pulling his crumpled white shirt on as he did. "I'm going down to the station - I figure if I wait long enough a train will show up."  
  
"What about your stuff?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Send it on. I don't care." With that, he walked away, towards town, a tall, slim shape disappearing into the haze, not of heat, but of the tears blurring her vision.  
  
***  
  
The sun felt like it was baking him, leeching every last bit of moisture from his body, but he didn't move from his seat on the small platform. The scouring sun was merely making the outside of him feel as bad as the inside. The worst of it was he could still taste her, smell her, on his lips, on his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to that brief moment of ecstasy and make it last forever. But he'd lost even that memory, with the way she'd dismissed it, as if it was nothing more than another game of pool.  
  
A hand holding a bottle of water passed into his field of vision.  
  
"Here," said a voice, but it wasn't Allison's. Fish glanced up at the lanky form of her brother, looking down at him with an expression of sympathy on his face. "She said you'd be torturing y'self, so she sent me with this. And your stuff." He placed the sports bag at Fish's feet and sat beside him. "Go on, looks like you need it."  
  
Fish took the water, hesitating only a moment before taking a long, grateful swig. "She sent you? You know what happened, then?"  
  
"Bits. I worked out the rest for meself." David's eyes were shadowed by his Akubra, but Fish caught a flash of something, a softening around them, that told him David wasn't here to beat the crap out of him. After seeing him in action last night, Fish was grateful. "Sorry it worked out like that. You're a good bloke."  
  
"Not good enough, it seems," Fish said gloomily, watching a couple of crows flying over the sun-browned paddocks. Out in the open, the sun had leeched the colour from everything, leaving a landscape of yellows and ochres and dusty browns beneath the burning blue sky. Allison was right - this place, this heat, was not for him. His skin felt like it was flaking off.  
  
"I wouldn't say that. Ali. she likes you, a lot. Too much, which is why she did what she did. She didn't want to tie you down, stop you from doing what you want to do. An' being made to leave here. well, it did a number on her. She's terrified of losing it again, now she's got it back. She'll do anything to stay on the farm. It's where she belongs." David paused in his unusually-long speech, collecting his thoughts. "She did it for both of you."  
  
"Small comfort, mate," Fish said at last. "She didn't even give me the choice, just made her mind up and closed it. We could have worked something out."  
  
"Maybe. Maybe not." David looked up the tracks - through the wavering haze, a train was coming. "She's sorry, if it helps."  
  
"It doesn't." Fish stood, scooping up his bag, a somehow lost looking figure still dressed in the dishevelled formality of the night before. "Thanks, but. I appreciate the effort." The train came to a rattling stop, and Fish pulled the door open, disappearing inside. He didn't look back.  
  
***  
  
The End.  
  
Glossary:  
  
Ute: Short for utility. Pick-up truck.  
  
Chook: Chicken.  
  
High thirties, low forties: Australians use Celsius. In Farenheit, it would be around 100-105.  
  
Jackaroo: Another name for farm hand, primarily on sheep and cattle stations. They tend more to the animals, herding, shearing, that kind of thing.  
  
Big Smoke: Country term for the city. In this case, Melbourne.  
  
B&S: Short for Bachelor and Spinster's Ball, a country phenomenon. Generally a formal party where the young unmarried members of rural communities get together, drink a lot, and have the kind of good time you'd expect. *grins* Used to be a way for eligible people to meet prospective partners - still is, only people don't phrase it quite that way.  
  
Circle work: One of the more dumb B&S traditions. Combine young men, alcohol and farm vehicles and you will get said young men driving round and round in circles in paddocks in an attempt to throw out the person standing in the back. Has resulted in some deaths, so the practice has been widely discouraged.  
  
21st: 21st birthday, the _other_ reason for having a big formal party and drinking too much.  
  
UDL: Can't remember what the abbreviation stands for, but they're spirit mixes in 350 ml cans. Very sweet, and as a consequence, very easy to get obscenely drunk on them.  
  
Akubra: Broad-brimmed felt hat, of the kind made famous by Crocodile Dundee.  
  
Anything I've missed, I'm happy to explain via email. 


End file.
